


Fandom Hits Album - Dean/Sam-Bobby/Rufus

by millygal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: FandomHitsAlbum, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 09:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 5,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10614057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: They've definitely paid their dues!





	1. Of The World. We Are The Champions - Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean/Sam  
> Rating: PG.

The first few notes come wafting out of Baby's antiquated speakers and Dean feels his bloody and swollen lips split into a painful but well worth it grin.

Feet tapping dangerously hard against the Impala's pedals whilst she idles at the intersection, Dean's so busy enjoying his own moment of musical ecstasy he doesn't notice Sammy sat in the passenger seat air guitaring for all he's worth until he's nearly deafened by the truly awful spectacle of his little brother pretending to be Freddy Mercury, complete with over the top hand gestures. "I've paid my dues, ** _time after time_**. I've done my sentence, but committed no **crimeeeee.** "

Shaking his head and drumming against Baby's worn leather steering wheel, Dean sucks down a lung full of air and belts out the last few lines of the first verse, vying for decibels with Freddy _and_ Sammy. "And _bad_ **mistakes?** I've made a **fewwww**. I've had my share of sand kicked in my face, but I've come **throughhhhhhhhh**."

There's a healthy dose of irony attached to every note of the song, but Dean couldn't care less.

The average Joe would call them serial killers, psychopaths, murderous freaks, but there are people walking and talking and gulping down burgers and fries and fucking and fighting and dancing like idiots all because **they** _are_ _**champions.**_

_We are the champions, my friends,_

Azazel, Lilith, Alistair!

_And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end._

Meg, Ruby, Casey.

_We are the champions._

The Seven Deadly fucking Sins!

_We are the champions._

Brady, Tammi, Father Gil.

_No time for losers_

The Four Horseman of the God Damned APOCOLYPSE!

**_'Cause we are the champions of the world._ **


	2. I Should Know What Love Is. I Want To Know What Love Is - Foreigner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I better read between the lines. In case I need it when I'm older  
>  Sam/Dean  
> Rating PG

_I gotta take a little time_  
A little time to think things over  
I better read between the lines  
In case I need it when I'm older 

Why was so it so much easier when I was younger, to overlook the fact that this is meant to be _wrong_? Dean thinks I don't worry, thinks I don't question the **us** of it, every damned day! But I do, every single touch, every single smile meant only for me, it tugs at something primal inside that points a finger and shouts, "You are WRONG!"

_Now this mountain I must climb_  
Feels like a world upon my shoulders  
Through the clouds I see love shine  
It keeps me warm as life grows colder 

He's the big brother, the one that holds us up when we should fall. He finds himself flattened under the weight of the morality of our decisions, and I need him to know that it's not just _him_ but I'm so afraid if I voice my own concerns and thoughts, he'll walk away from me, from us. This whole situation is **so** fucked but it's the only reason I'm still standing!

_In my life there's been heartache and pain_  
I don't know if I can face it again  
Can't stop now, I've travelled so far  
To change this lonely life 

I've already lost so much. **We've** already lost so much. I can't even contemplate losing Dean. I know if we stop I won't lose him as my brother, but I need the comfort, the feel of his flesh against mine, his own desire unhampered by the imposed thoughts of people who have NO CLUE what we live through every day!

_I wanna know what love is_  
I want you to show me  
I wanna feel what love is  
I know you can show me 

The sweet sweet scent of Dean's breath ghosting against my throat as he wraps lithe fingers around my twitching cock is one of the only places on the planet where I'm *not* Sam Winchester - Hunter and Freak. I'm Sammy; Dean's one true anchor. It's intoxicating in a way that I couldn't even TRY to explain!

_I'm gonna take a little time_  
A little time to look around me  
I've got nowhere left to hide  
It looks like love has finally found me 

We don't always want to be in each other's pockets, sometimes for the sake of our sanity I need to walk passed _us_ and become **me** and I know that Dean feels the same, however, that's not where our hearts lie, and fuck it, I don't care how freakish that makes us. We are stronger together.

One day we'll be brave enough to not give a fuck about what other people think of us, but until then I know I can always come _home_ to Dean. As selfish as that makes me sound, I'll take preservation of self over the need to maintain a status quo, any day!

I **do** know what love is!


	3. Empty Spaces. Against All Odds - Phil Collins.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If she could see him now...  
> Rufus/Bobby  
> Rating PG

Rufus wishes on a regular basis that he could cut Robert Singer out of his life, prays that he'll wake up one day and won't feel that old _pull_ of affection.

The man ruined his entire existence, had a very blood soaked hand in breaking the only thing in his life that meant anything to him, and yet time and again he falls head first into Bobby's arms and tells himself it will always be the **last** one! The last moment of weakness!

How do you reconcile the image of your murdered daughter against the picture you keep in your wallet of the man responsible for such a heinous memory?

The truck beneath him rumbles as he pulls into Singer Auto.

Each catch and snag of rock underneath rubber is a punch to the gut, is a physical nudge by the universe reminding him that this _isn't_ where he's meant to be.

Despite the heavy heart that accompanies him on these trips, his entire body is ignoring the sorrow in favour of the thrill. The sense memories of Bobby's hands; always so rough, always so grasping, knowing him better than he knows himself.

Rufus was once a husband and a father, now he's just a dirty old drunk with a life time's worth of regret behind him and the possibility of the best orgasm he's ever had in front of him.

He's wrong on so many levels but it's way passed Give-A-Shit'O'Clock and he's tired, and lonely, and in need of a good tumble.

If his daughter could see him now; with a half hard cock and a glazed expression on his face, would she disown him? Would she walk away, or would she tell him that he's punished himself (and his best friend) enough?

There will never come a day he doesn't wish ill on Bobby, because somewhere deep inside he knows he's a little more broken than he was before, but he's going to have to stop allowing Bobby to try and 'make it up to him'. It isn't fair. So many years and so much water has passed under that bridge, it's about time he owned his own actions.

Killing the engine he makes a pact with himself.

He will no longer let Bobby push for forgiveness. If forgiveness isn't possible, some kind of peace might be, and why shouldn't Robert Singer be allowed the chance of it?

Stepping from his truck Rufus straightens his jacket, nods to himself or the universe, he's not sure, and heads towards Bobby's front door.

Tapping lightly, knowing that Bobby's been waiting for the sound, Rufus allows a smile to twist his lips.

Bobby hears the taptaptapping and can't help the lump in his throat as he flings the door wide. The look on Rufus' face isn't what he expected, but there's a warmth there that's been missing for a long time. "You comin' in or what, it's fuckin' freezin' out here!"

Rufus watches the twinkle he's so used to in Bobby's eyes flash and intensify before snorting and waving his hand up and down in front of his best friend's face. "And with all that extra weight on, you'd think you'd be nice and toasty! Come on then, get out my way!"


	4. Catch You On The Flip Side! Make It With You - Bread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's not afraid of losing control!  
> Dean/Sam  
> Rating R

Switch hitter - not something he'd ever imagined being. As far as Dean was concerned he was Alpha Omega and all the letters of the Greek alphabet in between, but having Sam heaving and panting above him brings it's own rewards.

For instance no one will ever know that Sam's left eye twitches more than his right when he's close to shooting his load, or that there's a spot just behind his right knee that drives him to the point of no return _every single time_.

It's a dance they're extremely good at stepping to. Both of them have moments of **need** so visceral that the other won't argue, will simply get on all fours and wait; spread legged and open mouthed.

Dean prefers front to back; chest pressed against the strength of Sam's twisting shoulders.

Sam likes watching the play of pleasure on Dean's face, will always bring him in close, press nipple to nipple and breathe heavily against his brother's ear.

Once, **once** they spent an entire night fighting for dominance and broke every stick of furniture in the motel room. Bye bye security deposit.

Dean brings sheer stubbornness and gravitas, Sam brings speed, agility and smugness. Between them no room is ever going to be safe again!

Dean approaches each encounter the same; man, woman, significant other, he couldn't care less! As far as he's concerned go **big** or go _home_. The only difference is with Sammy he has a matching set of muscles that can take as much punishment as the other is willing to dole out.

There are mornings he wakes up and can barely move, barely even crack an eyelid, because the night before has sapped so much energy it hurts to even think!

The reminders of a night enjoyed are present in the day whenever they try and sit in the Impala. A wince here, a dirty laugh there. Nothing says happily ever after quite like pervery shared!

There's nothing they wouldn't do for each other. A level of trust that most only dream of, let alone manage to grasp. Dean knows with complete clarity that Sam will always go that extra mile. If he *needs* something, he only has to ask, and most days there's no need to even say it out loud!

The rest of the universe might think they're freaks but to Dean this is what it means to be family, to be blood, to know where you belong.

He's home!


	5. Summer Breeze. Summer Breeze - Seals and Crofts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode Coda to 6x16 - Rufus' Death.  
> Bobby/Rufus  
> Rating PG

_See the curtains hangin' in the window_  
In the evenin' on a Friday night  
Little light is shinin' through the window  
Lets me know everything's alright 

You stupid old git.

Why didn't you ever just let it go?

I didn't begrudge you your pain but you still rocked up expecting to get your rocks off.

How is that fair?

_Summer breeze, makes me feel fine_  
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind  
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine  
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind 

It's warm tonight, warmer than normal for this time of year and all I can think is how you used to sit out in my yard on that damned fugly lawn chair in nothin' but a pair of ratty boxers complainin' about being permanently tanned in hot weather.

If someone else had said that to you you'd have made them kiss asphalt!

_See the paper layin' on the sidewalk_  
A little music from the house next door  
So I walked on up to the doorstep  
Through the screen and across the floor 

For the longest time I tried to stay mad at you for bein' mad at me, but when someone's pressed up tight against your back, whispering words of what could look like love on anyone else, it's hard to remember why you were pissed in the first place.

Now all I do is sit and think, "Shit, must tell Rufus that! He'll laugh like a donkey. Oh, wait...no."

_Summer breeze, makes me feel fine_  
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind  
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine  
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind 

Blanket apology Dean said, yeah, right. Never really knew you did he?

Then again maybe you're out there somewhere, just now realisin' that this crap sticks if you let it. Knowing you, it'd probably take death to get you to admit you were wrong.

 _See the smile awaitin' in the kitchen_  
Food cookin' in the plates for two  
Feel the arms that reach out to hold me  
In the evening when the day is through

Rufus Turner you old fool, whatever fate awaited you after, I hope it's one with a small measure of peace. I won't say sorry for keepin' on lovin' you, and I won't regret not lettin' you go, so there. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

_Summer breeze, makes me feel fine_  
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind  
Summer breeze, makes me feel fine  
Blowing through the jasmine in my mind 


	6. Forever's Gonna Start Tonight! Total Eclipse Of The Heart - Bonnie Tyler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode Coda to 6x16 - Rufus' Death.  
> Bobby/Rufus  
> Rating PG

Regret swallows him whole.

He should've said something, he should've admitted he'd forgiven Bobby, but pride pain and vengeance, and even a little jealousy at the old bastard's relationship with the boys, stopped him from ever saying out loud that it wasn't okay but it was _done_ with.

As the veil drifts closed over his unblinking eyes, Rufus flails, tries one last time to touch what was always within reach.

Too late, and too bad, and too bloody stupid for his own good.

Loneliness is a nasty thing, crawls inside and shreds everything you once held dear.

Now Bobby will never know and he'll spend eternity kicking his own incorporeal ass.

He briefly wonders if holding onto his anger will prevent him from ever seeing the light they promised in Sunday school, then snorts at his own delusional train of thought.

He was never destined for an ever after. Not one with harps and wings and halos.

Darkness, that's all there is now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Light, blinding light, shooting straight through the centre of him, burning up what's left of his soul.

Rufus is yanked back from obscurity for the briefest of moments and doesn't have a clue as to why, until he hears Bobby's voice.

_"It was Omaha. It was_ **my** fault. And he never let it go."  
"Well, he **should** have."  
"You don't know what I did, Dean."  
"Doesn't matter."  
"What do you mean, it doesn't..."  
"I mean, at the end of the day, you two were **family** _. Life's short. And ours are shorter than most. What, are we gonna spend it wringing our hands? Something's gonna get us. Eventually. And when my guts get ripped out, just so you two know, we're good. Blanket apology for the crap that anybody's done, all the way around."_  
"Some of us pulled a lot of crap, Dean."  
"Well. **Clean slate**."  
"Okay." 

Rufus nods, he thinks he does anyway. Not having a body will do strange shit to your senses. "That's it kid, don't repeat our mistakes!"


	7. Don't Tell Everybody. Your Song - Elton John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where he belongs.  
> Sam/Dean  
> Rating NC-17

The staccato rhythm of Dean's heartbeat pulsing against Sam's sweat soaked spine brings into sharp focus the feel of his brother's tightening balls slapping wetly against the backs of his legs.

Beneath Dean's skilled hands Sam is simply a piece to be moulded, a sculpture in passion and impatience.

As always this could be the very last time that Sam gets to hear his name forced between lips pulled back in the rictus of _So Close_ and he relishes every strained breath, every single snag of ragged nail against roughened skin. Palms slipping on ratty sheets as his knees buckle under the weight of Dean's body beating his nervous system into submission.

There is nothing more intoxicating than knowing you are the very end and beginning of someone's existence. He may be a perpetual bottom but he's Dean's bottom and in being so, he knows there isn't another human being on the planet who can read his brother's twisted misshapen body the way he can.

During the day when they're _Agents Smith and Wesson_ or whoever they choose to be that hunt, no one would know that there's a small scar just above Dean's right elbow which Sam can hook his tongue into and drive his brother insane.

The gentlest of flicks and Dean will be begging for Sam on all fours.

There are moments, fleeting and easy enough to miss, where he spots Dean giving him a look he's not used to, one that speaks of white picket fences and shared mail boxes, even a dog and a cat and a job to be held down not fled from.

In those moments Sam feels such sorrow for Dean.

Dean knew a normal, a simple. An easy life.

It may only have been four short years but from those years he managed to understand that **this** life isn't conducive to _that_ happy ending.

Sam is, depending on your view point, lucky enough to know that isn't possible.

He hoped once, and once was enough.

Now he knows without a shadow of a doubt that **this** is where he belongs.

No, that's not right...Dean is where he belongs.

As he feels Dean's fingers tighten on his hips, Sam realises that a person isn't a place, or they shouldn't be, but for the younger Winchester, Dean is where it's at.

Some may say it's a dangerously co-dependant relationship, he couldn't give a crap.

Right now, with Dean's cock slipping almost all the way out of his spasm-ing ass, Sam couldn't care less if the entire cast of **Moulin Rouge** wandered in and starting riffing on how fucked up they are!

Sam howls as Dean's teeth scrape hard against his jugular and he knows with complete clarity that _this_ is his song, these stilted and stuttering breaths filling a throw away room on some forgotten back road are what really matter.


	8. Don't Be Ashamed To Cry. I'll Stand By You -- The Pretenders.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't tell me you don't need me!  
> Rufus/Bobby  
> Rating PG

Rufus knows that Bobby won't ever ask for the support, there will never be a _moment_ that he admits he's in need of a stronger shoulder, a more stoic one than the boys can offer. Doesn't mean he's gonna give the wizened old fucker the chance to turn down the offer.

It's been twelve hours since the Winchester lads _slipped out the back door_ so as not to incur more of Bobby's patented wrath. Rufus knows without a shadow of a doubt that those two will be weighing the guilt of doing what they had to for a very long time to come.

Robert Singer brings out the highest level of loyalty in his _family_. It's just a shame the price that family pays is the inability to fix what's broken even if it hurts like a bastard having to walk away from a problem unsolved.

Bobby will have wept, he'll have beat the living crap out of anything at eye level and now he'll be neck deep in his nastiest bottle of scotch. No way Rufus is gonna allow him chance to wallow alone.

Misery does indeed love company even if said misery tells company to fuck off, with nob's on.

"Answer the door you complete bastard!"

Rufus can hear the _squeaksqueaksqueak_ of Bobby's flash new wheels as he rolls up to the door just so he can ignore the hammering. "Seriously man, open up or I'll break a window!"

"Piss off!"

Rufus can't help the grin, despite knowing that his best friend's heart is literally shattering. "No, fucking open up or I swear to Go...Finally!"

The door creaks inwards and Rufus can see that Bobby's face is a multi-coloured swap shop of puffy and red and all kinds of snot lodged in the beard laying unkempt against the cheek now twitching through a one inch gap. "Bob, come on, let me in."

Bobby growls, literally growls and makes to roll backwards and slam the door in Rufus' face.

Rufus may be older than he'd like to admit but he's got speed and two working legs on his side as he shoves a boot in the doorway and kicks inwards. "Man you are the most stubborn pigheaded down right ornery shit I have ever met."

Striding passed a spluttering Bobby, Rufus yanks the bottle of gut rot from his grasp and takes a swig. "Right, you, shower now, and after that you can sit and _talk_ to me!"

Bobby keeps the chrome and rubber to Rufus' face as he pushes the door closed, takes a deep breath as if to let loose a tirade of hatred, and instead finds himself fighting white hot tears that sting his eyes and burn his throat. "She's gone, **again**!"

Rufus steps up to Bobby's back, doesn't utter a single syllable, just wraps his strong arms around his best friend's shoulders and squeezes.

They stay like that, could be an hour, could be five seconds. With Bobby falling apart, and Rufus holding him together, this is how Bobby finally drifts off to sleep and is wheeled gently towards his bedroom. "Sleep man, I'll be here when you wake up!"


	9. Leave Me...Now. If You Leave Me Now - Chicago.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reason!  
> Sam/Dean  
> Rating PG

_If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me_  
Ooohh no  
Baby please don't go  
And if you leave me now, you'll take away the very heart of me  
Ooohh no  
Baby please don't go  
Ooohh girl  
I just want you to stay 

It's been eleven years since I poked and prodded and pushed and you _still_ didn't pick me over Jess or your **new** life. I don't actually blame you, having lived a different life through necessity or circumstance. I _know_ what it tastes like, to live outside **this** life. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like a Sonofabitch!

_A love like ours is love that's hard to find_  
How could we let it slip away  
We've come too far to leave it all behind  
How could we end it all this way  
When tomorrow comes and we'll both regret  
The things we said today 

I think you're happy here, with me, with _us_. You've had so many opportunities to walk away and actually, despite the moments you made stupid decisions based off of a need to prove something, you've chosen me time and again. That doesn't mean I don't still feel the sting that comes with being left behind!

_A love like ours is love that's hard to find_  
How could we let it slip away  
We've come too far to leave it all behind  
How could we end it all this way  
When tomorrow comes and we'll both regret  
The things we said today 

I only ask **one** thing, don't leave me again. I'm not the guy to worry about chances missed.... _chances are, though I wear a silly grin_...but I do worry that I've lost all ability to see any of the woods for the trees. You are *it* for me Sammy-Boy. No two ways about it.

_If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me_  
Ooohh no  
Baby please don't go  
Ooohh girl  
I just got to have you by my side  
Ooohh no  
Baby please don't go  
Ooohh mama  
I just got to have your loving here 

If only I could see _me_ through your eyes maybe I'd lose this feeling of hesitance, this all consuming paranoia that comes with being the one not given his own choices. I'd have picked you, every step of the way. Maybe that makes me narrow minded, but I'd rather understand my obsession than be blind sided by it!

I know you love me, on every level, even levels that aren't healthy or thought of as remotely normal, but just once I'd like to be the *reason* not the consequence.


	10. I Ain't Missin' You Already. Missing You - John Waite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day it'll just be because they can.  
> Rufus/Bobby  
> Rating PG

Bobby's elbows deep in Roogeroo gore and trying to figure out how to dig a hole big enough to drop the bastard in without the use of his CAT after it threw a belt track yesterday, when his phone trills in his top pocket. "Oh for fuck...any money that's that shit Rufus!"

Withdrawing from the ruined rib cage in front of him, flicking his hands like he's trying to dry dishwater off them, he pulls his phone out by the corner and uses his nose to answer. "What?!"

"Bobby, Bobby man, you there? Got an issue, need help! Now!"

Sighing and wiping his free hand on his ratty jeans, Bobby thunks down in the blood encrusted dust at his feet, "When don't you have an issue, Idjit! What you done this time?"

"I might've ganked a vamp that was posing as a town mayor...the locals may _not_ believe I was doin' 'em a favour!"

Sucking his lips over his teeth, Bobby chuckles and rolls his eyes, "And you want me to what? give you a face lift?"

"No you fucking moron, I need somewhere to lay low and a body that looks like me. Any ideas?"

Why exactly is it never **easy** being Rufus Turner's best friend?!?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No, gettttooffff!"

"Come on Bob, you know you've missed me!"

Bobby scoots along the raggedy couch in an effort to avoid Rufus' drunken attempts at undoing his zipper. For a man well passed his half way mark he's got hands like a squid, all fucking over the place! "Rufus, man, don't push me. Six months you haven't bothered comin' by and now you need somewhere to play fugitive, you're gonna use me as a scratching post?"

Rufus chuckles and slides up close to Bobby's side. "Now now Bob, you know that ain't how it is, it's the life. Never got chance to come by before now. Come onnnn, you've got the same itches as me. Why fight it?"

Caving in and grinning at his pain in the ass best friend, Bobby lifts his arm for Rufus to tuck in under. "Fine, but guess what buddy, this time _I_ get to lead..."

Rufus smirks and lays his head on Bobby's chest. "Sounds fair to me, you did just jack a corpse from the local morgue. I owe you one."

"One, **one** is the very least you owe me!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rufus steps in close, lays a rough palm against Bobby's unshaved cheek, smiles softly and leans forward. "Next time, less than six months, 'kay?"

Bobby smirks and nods before closing the last few inches between them, whispering against Rufus' quirked lips. "Next time no dead bodies."

"You got it!"

The kiss isn't movie quality, nor is it what you'd call romantic; all teeth and tongues and stubble that scratches both their noses, but it's warm and familiar and says more about their friendship than any amount of words and explanations ever could.

Bobby watches Rufus' truck fishtail and side-wind out the gate, kicking up dust and crap so all that's visible are the dim tail lights driving off into the heat haze blurring the yard. "I ain't missin' you already, asshole!"


	11. All Outta Love! All Out Of Love - Air Supply

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy's going to have to learn to say sorry without making an ass of himself, even if Dean does love it when he's a bit of a div ;)  
> Sam/Dean  
> Rating PG

Pounding head, aching limbs, itchy _everything_ , and a face that feels like someone hit him in it with a shovel.

Dean's having one of those days. One of those weeks in fact. A week in which he wishes he'd fallen ass first into Lucifer's cage instead of Sammy! It's gotta be a bad week when you're seriously considering Luci for a forever friend!

Burrowing under scratchy motel covers, Dean wonders where his half baked brother has fucked off to then realises he doesn't actually care. If not for Sam's need to try and prove he isn't completely insane, they'd never have stepped into that pit full of skin peeling goo and Dean wouldn't be feeling like three day old hammered crap.

Shaking his head, wincing and regretting it instantly, Dean closes his eyes and tries not to worry about not having seen Sammy in the last four hours. Fuck him, if he wants to wander off and get himself bound and gagged in a rubber room, that's his deal.

Sighing and heaving himself out of bed, Dean growls under his breath and reaches for his phone. "One day! One day I'll let him deal with his own crap and **not** worry like a Den Mother."

Thumbing through his contacts, Dean's about to jab Sammy's name like it's the Sasquatch himself when he hears horrendous ear splitting warbling wafting underneath the closed motel room door.

"I'mmmm all outtt of lourveeeeeee I'm sooo lostttt withhouutttt yo...shit, ouch! who put those there?!?!"

Listening to a pile of tin bins tumbling across the motel courtyard, Dean closes his eyes and tries to suppress his grin. " _Really?!?_ "

Rolling his eyes and chuckling to himself, Dean stands and heads towards the still shut door.

"IIIII knowwwww you wereeeee righttttttt, believing for sooooo longgggggg!"

Giving up any and all pretence of annoyance, Dean bursts into full blown laughter as Sam murders every single note on the way down. "Damn it Sammy, don't give up the day job!"

Twisting the handle, still snorting at his brother's god awful rendition of a _classic_ 80's power ballad, Dean steels himself for whatever idiotic and stupidly adorable sight will greet him.

Stepping out onto the balcony, Dean has to grab the railings to stop from curling into a ball and crying with laughter.

Below is Sam with a giant red carnation stuffed down the front of his pants, arms thrown wide, face positively glowing with the **Joy of Song** as he continues to murder one of Dean's favourite tunes.

"Mmmm alllll **oomph** out of lourvveeeee, wh't mmmm I with't yaouueeeeee. I can'ttttt beeeee too lateeee t' sayyyy th't I wushhhhhh soooo wronggggg!"

"Dude, what the _fuck_ are you **doing**?!?"

Sam's eyes are closed in blissful ignorance as he belts out what can only be described as something sounding like a bag full of cats being tortured with a taser.

Realising he finally has his desired audience, Sam cracks one eye, smiles up at Dean in that drunken soporific way he knows makes him look like a puppy on a sugar rush and waves enthusiastically before pulling the stem of the carnation from between his sweaty balls. "'Mmm Sorry Dean, didn't mean t' make you all scritchy! F'give me?!"

Dean shoots for stern, lands somewhere around bemused and loving and caves in before one of the other questionable residents of their motel decides to take his little brother up on his drunken offer. "Get your ass up here, you retard!"

Sam shakes his head violently, causing his hair to whip into his eyes and stick to his lips. Spitting out a tongue-full of luscious locks, Sam pouts and crosses his arms over his chest. "Nope, not 'til you say you f'give me!"

Dean chuckles and shakes his head before leaning over the railings. "Fine, fine, I forgive you, now get your pretty ass up here before one of the neighbours decides you're too drunk to say 'No'!"

Watching Sam bounce up the steps leading to the first floor, Dean steps backwards into their room, humming Air Supply and trying to ignore the erection now tapping his left leg. "Great, I'm gonna be singing that all fucking night!"


	12. Why Fight It? Can't Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The musical equivalent of throwing a sock on the doorknob.  
> Sam/Dean  
> Rating R

Sammy's so bloody predictable.

Leaning against their motel room door, Dean closes his eyes and allows the soft strains of REO Speedwagon to wash over his bruised and aching body. Typical, Sam would wanna get freaky just when he's feeling like three day old road kill, but the guy sure knows how to raise a _smile_.

It's not easy creating levity out of their lives, and yet whenever Sam puts on _Can't Fight This Feeling_ Dean knows he's in for a treat, one that will inevitably end up with both of them in traction some day, but a treat none the less!

He idly wonders what silly yet wholly sexy sight will greet him when he opens the door; Sammy laying naked on ratty sheets with nothing but a bow tie wrapped around his impressive cock?

Perhaps he's dusted off the 'uniform' kink he's been carrying around for the last million years. What was it last time, oh yes, slutty patient and pervy orderly.

Oh, _oh_! Dean's all time favourite has gotta be the time Sammy went out specifically and bought edible body paints, scrawled shaky dots all over himself and kept asking in between strokes of his twitching shaft if Dean had figured out what the picture was yet. Safe to say that masterpiece never got finished. They never got their security deposit back either.

Smirking and trying to ignore the erection now cutting off the blood supply to his brain, Dean turns and slips his key in the lock. "Honey, I'm home."

"Evenin' Sailor..."

"Damn Sammy, how in the hell did you fit those in there? Who knew pink lace was so stretchy?!"


	13. It's international fanworks day! Fandom Hits. Rufus/Bobby. Art!  Open Arms, Open Heart!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby's arms are always open, it's up to Rufus to open his heart!  
> Open Arms - Journey  
> Rufus/Bobby


End file.
